


All Things Are Wanted

by triumphforks



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triumphforks/pseuds/triumphforks
Summary: Fudou and Sakuma consider their relationship, and everything around it, during their last year of high school.





	1. At Morning

He woke, aching all over. That had been happening more and more often lately - every night his sleep was restless, and even when he managed to get it he never woke up feeling like it had any effect. The reason? He couldn’t be sure, but Sakuma could point to one that stood out more than others.    
“Wake up,” he said, hitting Fudou lightly before getting out of his bed. Fudou groaned - the way he usually greeted the morning - but he paid no attention, instead focusing on getting himself ready for the day. He managed it all - getting himself together, breakfast, lunch - all before Fudou finally, drearily, made his way downstairs. He was pulling out a chair to sit at the breakfast table when Sakuma rushed over, and pushed his lunch in to his hands instead. 

“What, I don’t get to eat?” Fudou grumbled, but pushed the chair back in place all the same.

“Nope,” he replied, swinging his bag across his shoulder and leading the way out. “You want to eat, you get up earlier.”

More grumbling. He paid no mind. Instead it was out on to the sidewalk, and heading down the road towards school. Fudou wasn’t far behind, delayed only to pry open his lunch box and get something to eat. And so they went, mostly in silence, Fudou eating (onigiri - he’d made sure there was at least  _ something  _ he could have) and he himself… unable to break the silence. It’s not that it was an uncomfortable one, or that he felt like he couldn’t talk. It was just that… what was there to say?

_ Nearly three months,  _ he thought, and nothing had changed. Well,  _ some _ things had, but nothing in any way that really mattered. Because there were days like this - ones where Fudou had come over to fool around the night before, and stayed around to make his mornings more complicated. And there was the rest of it too, all the little  _ touchy  _ things Fudou did that he never would have, had they stayed ‘just friends’ - but that wasn’t anything either, not really. Just a new way for Fudou to try and get under his skin, with inappropriate actions now instead of his old inappropriate words. They were all kinds of closer, but even now there was a distance. Walking to school in silence. Walking so far apart a passerby wouldn’t even know they were going there together. So separate he couldn’t even think of a damn thing to say, not even some kind of casual conversational comment.  _ It doesn’t matter,  _ he told himself, just like he did every time he got to thinking about such unnecessary things. Fudou was only with him out of pity, he reminded himself. They were only together because no one else would be; two lonely people who, in moments of desperation, came together violently. And otherwise? They might as well be strangers. 

He frowned - and looked away, so Fudou wouldn’t see. That thought wasn’t sitting well with him this morning. Whether it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that his body still ached, he couldn’t be sure. But maybe… maybe it was a warning, that he shouldn’t just be content with letting things go as they had been.

“Fudou,” he started.

“Mm?” His voice was muffled, and a look over confirmed he was just finishing off the onigiri.

“I think you need to stop coming over.”   
“Why?” Suspicious. Challenging. Everything was a challenge.

“Because your dorm has a curfew and I think they’ll notice if you keep breaking it.” Not a completely out of field concern - maybe not the one at the top of his list, but still something he had been thinking about.

Fudou scoffed. “What’s the worst they could do? It’s not like I have much time left there anyway.”

“They might make you quit the team.”

“Is that all? You wouldn’t let them do that, would you?” Fudou wasn’t even looking at him as they talked, instead stretching, and taking stock of their surroundings. That irked him, for some reason.

“I don’t know. It’d get you out of my hair,” he snapped back, even surprising himself a little. Fudou gave him a look, sly, not fully committing, and seemed like he wanted to say something biting back - but instead he let out a groan of frustration.

“What’s the point of fucking the captain if I can’t get special treatment?” He shot Sakuma a smile. It was not returned. Instead he sped up his pace, just a little, and made Fudou work harder to keep up with him. 

They continue that way until the school came in to sight. And he would have continued on, had he not been suddenly stopped, his arm grabbed by Fudou, pulled off the road and in to a corner made by the unpredictable turns of a wall belonging to an old house. 

“What?” He made no effort to hide the irritation in his voice, but that didn’t seem to bother Fudou. It never did. Instead he smiled, that smile he knew he couldn’t trust, and moved in closer, pushing Sakuma’s hair behind his ear. 

“If you won’t let me come over anymore…” he trailed off, and leaned in with a kiss; at first gentle, then suddenly more forceful, pushing him back against the wall. And all the thoughts from earlier - all those ones that sat so uncomfortably, moaning about distance - none of them stood a chance. He pulled his arm free and wrapped it around Fudou, forcing him even closer, so that even the smallest space for air was gone.  _ More.  _ Closer - he wanted  _ closer,  _ dragging at Fudou’s jacket, refusing to give him so much as a moment to breathe. In this space - this tiny, cramped, breathless space - his thoughts stopped, completely, and he could be free. 

Free to feel hot, and painfully squashed, and to not care about the creases in his shirt, from Fudou’s hands wandering beneath his jacket, or about the debris from the wall that would get caught in his hair. 

_ Don’t lose yourself,  _ came a thought, strong and sudden; and with it the urge for space, and air, and to push Fudou away. They separated, out of breath. His first thought was to his uniform; pulling his jacket collar back in to place, straightening his shirt as best he could and tucking it back in, making the mental note to not take his jacket off for the rest of the day. And his hair - he could feel it pulling, so he fussed over that too, trying to get the silky strands to sit properly with the band of his eyepatch. He was so preoccupied he didn’t see Fudou come in close again and jumped when he reached out. Fudou laughed, and just pulled debris he’d missed from his hair. 

“You’re too fussy.”   
That didn’t deserve a reply. So he glared instead, and went off back around the corner and towards the school, not a single thing out of place, as though nothing had happened. He could hear Fudou following, at his own relaxed pace. He still kept his distance. A comfortable one now. But he knew the feeling wouldn’t last.


	2. At Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outside tension marks the locker room after practice.

Fudou was already changed, but still hadn’t left the locker room. It was just him and Genda, the latter still tying his shoes, sitting there in relative silence, broken only by an indistinct voice from the other side of the door. It had been going for some time now, frustratingly inaudible. He hadn’t realised, but he was leaning over towards it - as though moving that small distance would make the muffled words any clearer. 

“Do you mind?” Genda’s words came sharp and sudden, cutting through his concentration.

“What?” He threw back.

“ _ That _ .” Genda nudged his foot with his own, and just like how he’d failed to realise he’d been leaning, he’d missed that he’d been tapping his foot. Not in that thoughtful, rhythmic way, but frantically, anxiously - not that that’s what he was, no, but that was surely how it was coming across. He stopped, but not without a glare. What was it to Genda, anyway? But this brief irritation was soon forgotten, as he went back to trying to decipher something like words from the muffled mumble just out of earshot. 

Genda finished with his shoes just as the voice from across the wall stopped. The door to the locker room was soon pushed open and in came Sakuma, a grim expression on his face. 

“How is he?” asked Genda.

“Not good,” replied Sakuma.

“What’s going on?” It was a question, and his tone made it clear he wanted an answer. There was a tension here, between them, and it had him on edge. It had been a long time since he’d felt this out of it, and that the two of them shared a look instead of replying didn’t help. 

“It’s not important,” said Sakuma. Finally, a response! But not one he was happy with. There was no way he could miss the weariness in the other boy’s voice, or the way he sat on the bench next to him so heavily. There was an exhaustion to everything about him, from the janky way he pulled off his captain mark to the almost visible frustration in shaking through his hair. All this, and he was supposed to believe whatever it was wasn’t important?   
“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. And why should he? But it seemed like his disbelief didn’t matter, with Genda jumping in again before he could get his own concrete answer.

“Can we do anything?” 

“I’ll go over and see,” replied Sakuma. He was frowning- or was it glaring?- at the captain mark he was playing at in his hands. All of a sudden he stopped and scrunched the thing up and stood, with a quiet shout of frustration. “Those friends he made at Raimon are useless!” He had made it to his locker, and threw the mark in with more force than Fudou thought necessary. But at least now he had some idea of what was going on, even though it did nothing to dispel his own tension. 

It was a fight, but he held back. If they didn’t want him involved, then fine, he wouldn’t be. He pulled out his phone and acted to busy himself… while still keeping an ear out, still unconsciously leaning in to catch what he could. Not that it mattered, in the end - Genda got up and whispered something to Sakuma, and then picked up his bag and left. He watched him go, and then waited until his footsteps faded from hearing, before shoving his phone back in to his pocket and going over to Sakuma.

He was mostly changed by now - just starting on the buttons of his shirt. Fudou caught him at half way done, grabbing his waist from behind, nuzzling his chin in to that gap just between neck and shoulder, where his breath would disrupt hair and brush skin. Where he knew Sakuma hated it. 

“I could go with you,” he said softly, almost whispering; but he was right by Sakuma’s ear, and he knew his words wouldn’t be ignored.  _ I exist too,  _ he wanted them to say.  _ Don’t think about him. Think about me. _

“Really? You don’t even like Kidou.” There was something wrong with his voice - it was too light, too casual, to match the way he had been moving, and what Fudou remembered of his expression. Sakuma leaned back, forcing him to give up his nuzzling place, so he tightened his hold on his middle to compensate. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, just as casually. He got a scoff in response as Sakuma concentrated on finishing up his buttons, and then elbowing himself free to get on his jacket. He watched - despite the tension, he could still find some amusement. Sakuma was always so fussy with his clothes. Even now, still wearing his grave expression, he tugged at his shirt until it sat  _ just right _ , and took longer adjusting the sit of his jacket than Fudou did to get fully dressed. It was always a sight, with every movement making his thoughts almost visible, almost tangible, giving a glimpse in to the mind of someone so collected, so always-put-together.

He knew better, of course. It was fun to watch the facade be made. It was just that today, that fun was marred by his dour expression, and that got to him. Like a needle it jabbed, a mild but persistent irritant reminding him that something was wrong, something wasn’t right. 

He couldn’t stand it. 

At last Sakuma seemed satisfied with his clothes - so Fudou did what any supportive partner would, and reached out to mess up his hair. But he only got a half-hearted batting away in return, and that prompted his own frown. 

“Kidou’s old enough to deal with his own problems,” he said, the tightness he felt in his own chest escaping through terse words. 

“So? I can still help.” Sakuma brushed back his hair, picked up his bag, and made for the locker room exit. Fudou quickly scooped up his own bag and followed, but didn’t say anything more in response. This, what they had, was precarious - he knew it. It started almost as a joke, and even if Sakuma still thought of it that way it was a joke he wanted to keep going as long as he could. They walked together through the labyrinth halls of the school, all the way to the front gate, and he didn’t say another word. But he did wish he had a way to delay it all, to make the gate just that bit further away, because he knew that’s where they would have to separate. He wouldn’t be welcome with whatever drama Kidou had. That much had been made perfectly clear. But he still didn’t want to let Sakuma go. 

It wasn’t right, that he had to take on someone else’s burden. He could already see it wearing him down, with Sakuma so unusually quiet, so clearly thinking more about Kidou than where he was putting his own feet. He was caught in his thoughts, thoughts Fudou knew he was locked out of. It would be a risk, telling Sakuma not to go twice. A risk that, in his gut, he knew he shouldn’t take. And so as much as he disliked it, he kept quiet. 

The gate came up too soon. They parted with little more than a wave, though he waited before taking his own path home, watching Sakuma walk head-bowed in thought until he disappeared from sight. There was still a knot of tension in his gut, and he wished it would go away. But it wouldn’t. It was his burden. His reminder. That no matter how close he got, Sakuma would always stay just that one step away.


End file.
